Yokers

Yokers

Eye and object seen

Eye and the visualized

Self and Other conjoined in selfless otherless liberation

Binding, bondage to reveal that all is boundless
Istadevata Sri Mata devours her children

Tied to the moment

Connected to the techno-child

Temporary Illusion

Shramanas and makers of mystic heat

Extremists of desire, conviction, and enthusiasm

She is fierce who can pierce the veils that sow our fails

United into One into None

Space is their domain who hath dissolved into the void of awareness

Empty of selfness is the lila dance of wisdom mind
The whole universe is our body
Laughter is our joy and our invincible weapon
Fearful projections fall away in its presence

Bloodthirsty Mothers bite away the umbilical cords and divide
We become us and sup with the skull cup of blood and pus
The gore and toil and greed and spoil of sustenance
We, once yoked to our mother
Now sent off to become father or mother or something or other
So much is cyclic and we wish to be selectively psychic

We battle changing mood and conjoin with food at hunger’s call

    as suns and moons rise and fall
But some of us long to mix with the All
    if just to dwell for a spell in the universal well
To rest in heaven and grace
To be yoked to space
But alas there is the duty of the Mother, to tend to the other
Those which are not specifically us, are the children of us.

Love 

Harvest Moon Cleansing Tune

Harvest Moon Cleansing Tune

Darkness of tree shade and walls shield the bright moon for now

Time flies away and we get old and gray and day turns to night turns to day
Tomorrow is another strange opportunity for something or nothing

Restlessly I watch and cringe at the images of ignorance posing as pride

We only have those who are around
We only do what we can
Availability and Access

Seven powers the bird that flies the spared child to sea

Time keeps moving and changing and no one keeps time
Habit follows well worn paths and everyone follows habit
Mind directs body to move and do but what directs mind?
We are creatures of time habit mind

Howling dogs in one ear and rumbling thunder in the other

Outer and inner nature both call to our attention

Anger

Beautiful but Cold is the woman of my dreams

At the first twinkle of starlight there were clouds and no starlight so
   all is subject to availability

Causes and Conditions blah blah blah

One day is like the next

Predictably bland and unsatisfying
Samsara blah blah blah

I long for this and that

Desire blah blah blah

I cower and avoid this and that

Aversion blah blah blah

I ignore and fail to apply what I know

Ignorance blah blah blah

And yet the moon reigns in the storm

And I long for a day I can work and not sweat profusely
Comfort is subtle delicate balance unmaintainable
And yet we think we are up to the task

Harvest Moon

What is it that we harvest?
We take what we give in the raping fields of want and not want
The auto-pilot of habitual action is our driver

Same old same old same old stolen moments falling away

Then back to the matrix of maintenance

Free time is fallacy, is time free?

Sun rises and falls and peaks in and out of clouds and this becomes that becomes this
The wheel of time creates and destroys so that forever is never in its field

What comes goes and what goes comes. But nothing really goes or comes.

All that began will end so seek to know the beginningless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cut Et Paste

Cut Et Paste

Blurred can be the lines ‘twixt hero and villain

Subtle the nuances of mixtures bred and stolen

Into the arms of the mother

Into the focus undaunted
The active and the passive fall away and merge

Life goes on and on and then we’re gone

Everybody poops and everybody dies
Through ups and downs and loop-de-loops and lies

Love and war with its gentle and gore seem to offer more than routine and bore

We cut into parts then merge into a whole
Bodies, minds, and hearts all pervaded with soul
One is not the other and all we gain here we lose there
Quantum conundrum and reality does not seem fair
Zoom in too far and you begin to zoom out
Know with too much confidence and you begin to doubt
Go east and eventually you will end up west
    in the curved-space universe that we infest

Analyze and synthesize and all composite phenomena are pieces in disguise

The god-self delusion carries hopes and fears afar through times and lives
There is no core
Yet illusion habit rides illusion self on and on and on
Till we see and know beyond such intricate fetters
   and somehow cease to be debtors, no more go-getters, but letters go of all we know
   and ho ho ho it’s Christmas and down we go down hill of snow that is Odin’s beard to
   the timeless placeless wyrd.

Here beyond the gates we weave our fates
So mote it be So mote it be great